Uncertainty Is All I Can Rely On

In grad school I once asked a professor what it takes to becomes a writer. He thought briefly then said, “Well, I guess the first thing you need to do is abandon any hopes you have of leading a normal life.”

As a young person I was unwilling to make such a daring commitment. Ultimately it was the “abnormal” life that found me, and the process of dealing with that reality was transformational.

Writing my bipolar memoir, INVISIBLE DRIVING, served as a rite of passage, it ushered me into the world of Manic Depression. There was more, in order to accomplish this mysterious objective I also had to make the evolutionary leap from “promotional copywriter” – (read shoemaker) - to writer, putting it all on the line, discovering strengths I didn’t know I had.

My life until then had been spent one foot on the dock and one in the boat; I committed, at last, to the unknown; I became resigned to it – not in sad way, in a quietly accepting way – I set sail for keeps.

It is a lovely thing to know why one is on earth, and if one is lucky enough to find out, well – how could you look at yourself in the mirror if you couldn’t muster the vinegar to do it?

A Salty Dog

Tattered sails

Swell with breath

My battered boat

Groans and complains

As it’s guided from

Safe harbor to the

Cold and merciless sea

By invisible hands

I am weary of adventures

Scarred from fighting monsters

Hideous ones

Beautiful ones

All I ever wanted was a cat

A hearth, a dram, a meal

A woman who knew how to sew

A roof and wall to guard against

The cruelties of winter

But fate decrees that I am bound

Bound to the mast

Bound to the sea

Whatever rocky coast

Is my new home

I’ll tell my story there

Whatever rocky coast

Is my new home

I’ll tell my story there

Alistair McHarg

TO RELY ON UNCERTAINTY CLICK HERE 

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